Aria
by jemm101
Summary: When a small-town girl visits Brooklyn with her father, she realizes that not only humans walk on Earth. But a new and inexperienced Shadowhunter is going to need training, practice, and a new Shadowhunter family to fully become part of the Nephilim.
1. Population: 345

**Chapter One**

Yesterday had been weird for Aria.

She had been seeing freaky things ever since her father and she landed at the J. F. Kennedy Airport yesterday afternoon. Ever since she had stepped off Flight 277, from Michigan to New York, she could have sworn that her mind was playing tricks on her.

The first strange thing she had seen had been the man behind the desk when they exited the plane. His face had seemed perfectly ordinary – she hadn't looked twice – until he opened his mouth to reveal two horrible rows of rotted-through, black, and pointed teeth. He had given her a predatory grin as she walked past.

And when they had stopped for a hot dog on the corner of a busy street when walking from their taxi to their hotel, she had noticed that the vendor had peculiar eyes. When she had first looked at them they had seemed green . . . but after looking at them again she saw that they were undeniably yellow. While her father paid, she had stolen one last look.

They had been orange.

Even the woman who had worked the front desk in the hotel's lobby had seemed to have shimmering black hair and huge Monarch butterfly wings sprouting from her back. Aria had hardly believed that no one had taken out their camera phones or called the police.

Her father, Scott, had calmly taken the room key from the exotic hotel employee and smiled. "Thank you," he had said, slipping his wallet and key into the back pocket of his jeans and reaching down to pick up both his and Aria's suitcases.

The woman had smiled and given the astonished Aria a wink.

* * *

Now Aria sat in their room at the Holiday Inn Express, yawning and sipping a Styrofoam cup of heavily-creamed coffee. Scott's job required him to take these trips to large cities, in order to meet with other executives and representatives for the company.

Yet this was the first time that Scott had invited her to accompany him on one of his business trips. _"You're going to miss a good amount of school," he had warned her. "But you're fourteen now, and I think you're old enough to decide whether or no you want to come with me or stay with the Buckleys."_

_In fact, Aria had not wanted to stay with the Buckleys, their elderly neighbors, and one week later, she was away from Beal City, Michigan (pop. 345), for the first time in her existence. The airport in Michigan alone had been a giant shock – there had been so many people. It had almost overwhelmed her._

_And if she thought that Michigan's airport in Detroit was crowded, the sheer masses of people at the J. F. K. Airport had almost made her faint. It was as though every Beal City resident could have fit in there fifty times – maybe more?_

_Although, the one event that held the award for Largest Shock of Aria's Fourteen Years of Life was driving in a taxi through Manhattan and Brooklyn to get to their hotel._

_So. Many. People._

_And there were so many types of people. Men in expensive business suits, talking on cell phones, would pass homeless men sitting against the walls of buildings, begging pedestrians for money. Women with piercings in their noses and tattoos covering their arms would walk next to elderly ladies with blue hair and jogging suits._

_Short people, tall people, stick-skinny people, and people who looked as though they were their own planet all perused past one another without a second glance._

_And, of course, at some times Aria had believed she had seen something a little too freaky, even for New York City._

_Scott had glanced down at his daughter's wide-eyed staring and had cracked a smile. "It amazes me, too," he had assured her, putting his arm across her shoulders. "Every time."_

Finished with her coffee, Aria set down her cup and picked up the note her father had left her that morning. She vaguely remembered the alarm clock going off at five thirty that morning, but she had been too tired to care. When she woke up four hours later, she had found her father's hasty scribbling on a piece of hotel stationary.

_Aria –_

_I have to be at the Hyatt in Manhattan for a work conference at six thirty, and I won't be back until late tonight. Take your cell phone and explore Brooklyn, but make sure you call me every two hours. I love you, and be safe._

_Dad_

_Explore Brooklyn_, Aria thought, setting the note down and getting up to take a shower.

_Be safe_. She hoped that was possible, especially since New York City was not only filled with tons of people, but some people who didn't . . . seem . . . human.

After a shower, Aria was feeling more awake. She put on a pair of jeans, black Converse, and a purple T-shirt that had the Sailor Moon logo. After looking outside, she pulled on one of Scott's sweatshirts.

_Dad_, she texted Scott's cell, _I don't want to interrupt your meeting. Call you at noon. Love you._ Flipping her phone shut, she grabbed her wallet (with fifty dollars inside of it), her room key, and slipped all three things into the oversized sweatshirt pocket.

Brooklyn awaited.


	2. Caramel Lattés

**Chapter Two**

That morning's weather was crisp, a breeze cutting through Aria's sweatshirt as soon as she stepped out of the hotel. There was a small café across the street, and Aria, who had opted out of the hotel's breakfast buffet, felt her stomach rumble at the sight and smell of food. She quickly crossed the street (amid some honking and shouting) and entered the warm, cozy restaurant.

A sign at the front of the restaurant read _Sit Anywhere_, so Aria made her way to an unoccupied booth near a window. Outside, she had a view of the front of her hotel and the various cars, buses, and people making their way on Union Street.

"What can I get you, hon?" a voice asked from behind her, and Aria whipped her head around to see a waitress in her mid-forties standing beside her, patiently smiling.

"Um . . . ," Aria hadn't looked at the menu yet. She picked up the clear, plastic-covered fold-out and gazed at the breakfast menu. "Can you bring me a caramel latté to start with, please?" she asked. The waitress winked at her and turned to go bring her order to the kitchen.

Aria looked out the window again and continued to people-watch, one of her favorite past-times. At home, she liked to sit outside of the O'Hara's Ice Cream shop and watch the shoppers on Main Street.

But this time, she didn't see the same people twice.

A woman walking her Dalmatian, talking into a Bluetooth. A man carrying two bulging grocery bags, puffing as he walked against the wind. Several groups of teenagers, all laughing and not carrying backpacks. Aria wondered if they were skipping school.

The waitress had brought back her latté, and she sipped it thoughtfully as a new group of people came around the corner.

Now _here _were some interesting people.

* * *

"Jace!"

Clary Fairchild, Magnus Bane, and Alec, Isabelle, and Jace Lightwood were walking down Union Street that Saturday morning, free of any immediate duties for the first time in almost a month. Magnus had an arm around his boyfriend, Alec, and was trying to persuade the dark-clothed Shadowhunter to let him use his Warlock powers to change his black sweater to rainbow tie-dye. Alec, of course, was refusing. Isabelle was on Magnus's other side, grinning at their banter.

Jace and Clary _had_ been walking side-by-side . . . until Jace had taken the initiative to throw his girlfriend over his shoulder.

"Put – me – down!" Clary yelled, trying to kick her legs in the hope that he would lose his grip. But Jace simply held down her legs with his free hand.

Magnus and Alec stopped to look at the two in amusement. Isabelle laughed as Jace swatted Clary on her behind. "JACE!" Clary shouted, her cheeks flooding with heat. It made her red hair look ridiculous.

Clary's shouts had caused other pedestrians to look at the skirmishing couple; a few people were laughing, others raising eyebrows. This only made Clary blush harder.

"Please, please, Jace, put me down!" she begged.

Jace shook his head, letting golden curls fall into his amber eyes. "Take it back."

"Take what back?" she gasped.

"You know what. Take it back that my hair looks like Naruto Uzumaki's." This elicited several laughs from the onlookers.

"I was just making a reference," Clary said weakly. Jace proceeded to hitch her up higher onto his shoulder, and she quickly added, "Okay, okay! I take it back – your hair doesn't resemble Naruto Uzumaki's in any way."

". . . And?" Jace prompted.

"And . . . I'm sorry?" It came out as a question.

"There you go." Gingerly, Jace set his girlfriend back on her feet. Clary brushed off the front of her jacket, cheeks flaming. Jace laughed, winding an arm around her waist. She pushed it off and kept walking.

"You know what they say about a redhead's temper, Jace," Alec warned, grinning. Magnus was wiping tears from his eyes.

Jace only grinned back and called after her, "Clary, come back! I didn't mean to make you upset!" He rolled his eyes and started jogging to catch up with her.

"One day Jace is going to get himself hurt . . . and it won't be a demon," Alec mused, watching his _Parabatai_ try to reconcile himself with his girlfriend.

"Only if he decides to help Clary with her training," reminded Isabelle. "She may be able to create new runes, but it's going to take a lot more than that if she's going to start demon-killing with us."

Alec laughed, cautiously winding an arm around Magnus's waist; Magnus returned the gesture with a quick kiss to his cheek.

Jace and Clary returned, Clary looking placated. But Jace wore an expression of confusion. "What is it?" Clary asked him, becoming confused.

"Where did everyone go?" Jace asked rhetorically, gazing around the suddenly empty street. It was true – the once bustling street was completely deserted for blocks in either direction. Not even cars or trucks came chugging along.

Clary pressed closer to him. "Jace . . ."

Jace's pocket began to make a buzzing sound and vibrating. He took out his Sensor and hissed quietly under his breath.

"Demons."


	3. Purple Sparks

**Chapter Three**

Aria watched the golden-haired boy whip out what looked like a giant, plastic-covered cell phone, and then spit out a word. Even though the street had suddenly cleared, and there were no people or cabs to mask their voices, she was still too far away to hear them.

Aria turned to call her waitress over . . . when she realized the café had emptied as well.

_Where did everybody go?_ She wondered, leaving two dollars for the latté and a dollar tip on the table. She would have felt guilty not paying for the coffee.

She stood up and uncertainly made her way to the door. It seemed wrong just to walk out there, especially since all five of them looked distressed. The boy with the giant cell phone was telling the redheaded girl something urgent, pointing to the hotel across the street. Aria realized that he wanted her to go inside.

The girl was shaking her head stubbornly, and Aria thought that the boy might decide to throw her over his shoulder again.

The two dark-haired and pale-skinned children that looked like siblings were in the middle of . . . drawing on each other? With long, glowing cylinders that came to a point and were as thick around as an index finger, they drew strange symbols in black on each other's wrists, arms, and shoulders.

The redhead finally relented, and she ran across Union Street and inside of the Holiday Inn Express front doors. The boy seemed relieved, and pulled out his own luminous cylinder.

The tall, thin Asian man took the instrument from him and began to draw the symbols on the boy's hands, arms, neck – but he didn't receive any himself. When everyone seemed to be done drawing on each other, they put away their strange tools and pulled out . . . weapons.

* * *

"_Camael_."

"_Gazardiel_."

Jace and Alec pulled out new seraph blades from their waist and quickly gave the long, wicked-looking swords names. Jace checked his Sensor again. "It's getting closer," he announced, his voice becoming excited. He was in his element.

Alec, however, was anything but excited – his face had become a mask of determination. His boyfriend, Magnus, leaned over to whisper in Isabelle's ear, "He's so cute when he has his game face on."

Isabelle had pulled out her weapon of choice, every time – a whip. She snapped it experimentally against the pavement. When it cracked threateningly, she gave a satisfied smile.

Magnus sighed, flexing his fingers to let a few purple sparks fly from the tips. "And here I was hoping that we would _finally_ get a day off."

Jace gave the Sensor one final glance before tucking it back into his waistband. "Either a whole slew of demons are coming for us," he said, grinning, "Or we have a really _big_ demon heading our way."

The Shadowhunters and Warlock stood poised, ready to attack.

* * *

Aria was crouched down in a booth by the door, her eyes peeking over the edge and looking out onto the street. The two boys had pulled out what, at first, seemed like two more illuminated cylinders. But they both said _something_, and they turned into long, sharp swords.

The girl had pulled out a nasty-looking whip, and had been practicing snapping it onto the pavement.

And the Asian man . . . _was making purple sparks shoot out of his fingertips?_

It seemed to be true – he flexed his fingers and fireworks erupted from the tops.

_I can't be hallucinating_.

All of them now seemed to be waiting for something. There was tenseness to their shoulders, an expectant, hard look in their eyes. She followed their gaze down Union Street.

_No. Way._

* * *

"Jace . . . what _is_ that?" Isabelle breathed, her wide eyes taking in the huge demon coming straight towards them.

"If I'm correct . . .," Jace cocked his head to one side, squinting one eye, "We are looking at a Greater Demon."

"Really?" Alec asked in a sarcastic tone. "What gave you that idea?"

Jace ignored his _Parabatai_'s comment and straightened up, spinning his seraph blade in his left hand like it was a baton. "Yes, my friends, behold Beezlebub, one of the seven princes of Hell."

"Cast out of Heaven for gluttony," Isabelle realized, recognition dawning on her face.

Jace nodded. "At least _someone_'s been paying attention in Demonology," he said, shooting Alec a glare.

"Nephilim, now is really _not_ the time to be discussing one another's _study_ habits," Magnus admonished, glitter-encrusted eyes shocked as the demon continued its quick progression.

"Magnus is right," Jace decided. "We'll discuss this after the battle, Alexander."

Alec rolled his eyes.

Beezlebub was large, like almost all of the Greater Demons. It had the body of a wasp, but had a set of legs and two sets of arms, each coming with clawed appendages. Itss eyes were huge and bulging, and glowed a furious red.

It had two sets of fangs and a stinger protruding from its mouth, but the thing that really drew the eye was the set of wings attached to itss massive back. It moved by alternating between flying and walking. The wings made a horrible _thump_ as they hit the air.

"Alec, Izzy, cover me," Jace ordered, preparing to attack the creature. He was discreetly pulling out several small daggers from his pockets. Alec moved to Jace's right, Isabelle to his left. Magnus stood behind the three teenaged Shadowhunters, looking bored while inspecting a glittered nail.

Jace grinned again, but this time, the grin was filled with malice and hatred. His eyes burned with anticipation.

"Bring it on."


	4. Whips

**Chapter Four**

_Wham!_

Jace's first dagger hit the top left fang of the Greater Demon. The creature roared in outrage.

_Wham!_

His second dagger lodged itself in the top right fang. This only furthered to anger the demon, who proceeded to quicken its advance toward the small group of Nephilim . . . and the glittery Warlock.

_Wham!_

Jace's final dagger flew in almost slow motion through the air, hitting home right between Beezlebub's humongous eyes.

"Jace," Alex cautioned, but it was unneeded. The demon was already raging, and it raised itself fully in the air and came swooping down upon the assemblage.

Alec abandoned his seraph blade – for now – in order to pull out a bow and sheath of arrows. Quickly cocking an arrow into place, he expertly raised the bow and released the arrow. It landed on the creature's knee.

Alec shot another arrow to the _other_ knee, but it wasn't enough to cause its legs to buckle. The Greater Demon skidded to a stop right in front of Jace, breathing heavily, its eyes flaming.

"Isabelle," Alec murmured, inclining his head to indicate that his sister had a clear path to get around the demon. She nodded and slipped around, her whip curled in her hand.

Alec cocked another arrow and aimed it at one Beezlebub's eyes. It would be helpful to have the . . . _thing_ blinded. The Shadowhunter let his arrow fly, and it hit its intended target.

"Good shot, Alec," Jace yelled, who was now using _Carmael _to hack at the demon's thick legs. Jace could be many things when he fought – at that moment, he was graceful, almost dancing, as he spun and leaped and ducked, while the entire time he was using the deadly sword to cut through the Greater Demon's flesh.

Isabelle had made it safely around to the back of the distracted creature; it was oblivious to anyone but Jace, who had moved on to trying to slash off its toes. Whip in hand, she approached it from behind – but where to hit it?

From here she had a clear view of where the thing's wings were attached to its broad back. Yet how to get up there . . .

Hell, she was Isabelle Lightwood. She could find a way.

She caught Jace's eye – a miracle, since he was slicing his sword through Beezlebub's outstretched claws – and mouthed, _keep it distracted_.

Jace nodded, and, taking a deep breath, she began to climb its back.

* * *

Aria could not _believe_ this.

It was like watching a really scary, really well-made action/fantasy movie. These kids weren't just kids – they were _warriors_.

Really _good_ warriors.

And they were fighting a _monster_.

A really _big_ monster.

She could see that the golden-haired boy was the best – he showed no fear as he used that sword to slice through the creature's legs. And despite the thing's anger and cries of dismay, he kept at it. He was sort of elegant in the way he moved and wielded that sword.

And the dark-haired boy had surprisingly good aim with a bow and arrow. Aria had never _touched_ one, but she could tell that this boy was good to be able to hit from so far a distance – and such a terrifying target.

And the girl was just . . . scary. Especially with her whip.

Aria was frightened – for those teenaged warriors and for herself. What would happen if they _lost_? Would that monster be running rampant through New York City, like Godzilla or King Kong? She doubted that any beautiful, compassionate women were going to be able to stop that thing.

Now the girl was climbing onto the back of that thing, while the golden-haired boy continued to enrage the creature. The sounds it made were terrible, and made the hair on the back of Aria's neck stand up. The girl climbed up one leg, scaled the monster's back . . .

_And then began to pull off its wings._

* * *

Beezlebub finally noticed Isabelle's presence when her whip made contact with the apex of its wings.

She was hanging on to the back of one of his four arms, and, with one expert flick of her wrist, that whip curled around the spot where its wings met. She began to tug, hoping that _maybe_ she could rip it off, or, at least, make a tear. The wings were tough, though, and thick. She needed more manpower.

The Greater Demon was spinning around and around, like a dog chasing its tail, trying to find the culprit. Isabelle had to hang on tighter; her black hair stung her face as the demon created its own wind.

And then the creature stood still, and no one even dared to breathe.

She could feel its body rise and fall with the breaths it was taking, hear the air whistling past its gaping lips. She closed her eyes . . .

And found herself flying through the air.

Beezlebub had whirled around so suddenly that the Shadowhunter had lost her grip on its arm, and she sailed off. But her whip, still wrapped around one of the wings, stayed in her hand. With the force and speed of the turn, the Greater Demon's right wing was torn off.

Isabelle sat up from where she had landed, rubbing her head and trying to regain her composure. There were going to be some bruises.

It _howled_, it _wailed_, and it _moaned_ with such pain and fierceness that Isabelle, Alec, and Magnus covered their ears. Only Jace stood still, amazed at the ferocity of the creature.

"Nice job, Izzy," he said, stepping back and raising his seraph blade. "Now you've _really_ made it angry."

* * *

Inside the café, Aria watched with horror as the monster, after having his wing _torn off_, turned on the golden-haired boy with utter _wrath_ in its huge, red eyes. It roared, and started to attempt to pick the boy up.

The dark-haired boy and the girl both moved in to try and cover him – the girl still had her whip, the boy with the sword. The continued where the golden-haired boy had left off, hacking at the thing's legs.

Aria saw the golden-haired boy fighting off the thing's arms, and then he seemed to stop and think about something. He was gazing up at the monster's chest, almost analyzing, in a way.

The dark-haired boy glanced over at him and yelled something, but it seemed as though the other boy had already made up his mind.

When the arms came down again, he let himself be picked up.

* * *

"Jace! What are you doing?" Alec yelled at his _Parabatai_, heart thumping wildly against his rib cage as Jace allowed himself to be hoisted up into the air. Beezlebub's eyes glowed, and it threw back its head in victory.

"Jace!" Isabelle screamed.

But Jace knew what he was doing. As the Greater Demon let loose a triumphant sound, Jace took his seraph blade and began pounding it into its chest.

That took the thing by surprise.

As Jace continued to stab the demon in its heart, the creature did what all demons do when killed on Earth – it crumbled into black dust. Because Jace was no longer in its clutches, he slipped through the dust and landed lightly on his feet in the pile of the thing's remains.

Magnus, Alec, and Isabelle, mouths open with shock, followed his footsteps over to where they stood. Jace didn't meet their gaze – instead, he dusted off the sleeve of his jacket. He wrinkled his nose.

"Ugh," he sniffed, brushing his hands on his pants. "I wish killing them wasn't so _messy_."


	5. Later Than Ten

**Chapter Five**

_I have to get out of here_.

Aria pulled out her phone – it was only eleven a.m. With a start, she realized that the people had returned to the restaurant, looking as if nothing was wrong. Her waitress was at her booth, picking up the money she had left her.

_Go_.

Aria exited the café, and walked hurriedly across the street to the Holiday Inn Express, making sure not to look at . . . _them_. Her hands were shaking, and her breath was coming in short puffs. She raised her hands to rub her upper arms.

As she walked through the doors of the hotel, the redheaded girl came running out, and dashed into the middle of the street where_ they_ were standing. She threw herself into the golden-haired boy's arms, and he hugged her back fiercely.

"Jace," Aria heard the redhead sigh in relief.

So the fearless golden-haired boy's name was Jace. Aria had never heard of that name before, but it sort of suited him – the teenaged warrior who had just taken down a monster.

Aria turned her back on_ them_ and continued on into the Holiday Inn Express lobby. Her stomach was rumbling – that caramel latté hadn't been enough to sate her for long, and now the hotel's breakfast buffet was closed. And there was nothing upstairs except instant coffee and a package of airplane pretzels.

Checking outside the front window to make sure _they_ were gone, Aria hesitantly stepped back outside. The cars, buses, and people were all back – the black dust had vanished. It had probably mingled with all the smoke and smog in the air.

She wasn't sure where she was going, but she turned left and began walking, mixing in with all the other pedestrians on their way to _somewhere_.

She just had to get away from _there_.

* * *

The next two days were uneventful. Aria stayed within ten blocks of the hotel during her excursions outside. She visited an anime book store, drank a pineapple-açai smoothie, and bought a Radiohead T-shirt.

Luckily, she hadn't bumped into _them_ again.

But although she didn't see _them_, she was still surrounded by things that didn't seem _real_. Men with hair like moonlight, and women with neon-bright skin and bloodshot eyes. Aria was becoming frightened.

_Am I going crazy?_

She tried not to consider the possibility of insanity. Scott usually left early in the mornings and would come back late at night, so she was on her own for most of the day. He left her a twenty dollar bill on the nightstand everyday for food, and she texted him every two hours.

Monday night, she texted Scott a little earlier than usual (it had only been thirty minutes since their last check-up text).

_Going to a block party near the hotel. Won't be out later than ten. Love you. _

When Aria stepped outside, the cold air felt like a bucket of ice water splashing her in the face. Sputtering, she pulled up her hood, crossed her arms tightly across her chest, and began to walk toward the block where the party was being held. During lunch today, she had seen a sign on the overflowing bulletin board that invited anyone to come. Scott wouldn't be home till eleven at the earliest – what else was she going to do?

After about a minute she was mulling over the thought of calling a cab, even if it was only for about four blocks. It was _cold_.

Just then, Aria, who hadn't been paying attention, bumped into something _hard_.

_Whoosh_. Her breath came out in a gasp, and she took a few steps back. It felt as though the air had been knocked straight out of her chest. Maybe she had bumped into a lamppost? Or a stop sign?

That's when she heard laughter, and realized that it must've been a person.

"Sorry," she managed to choke out. "I wasn't . . . watching where . . . I was going."

"Hey, no harm, no foul," a voice said in amusement. Aria put her hand against her chest – almost to make sure that she was still breathing – and then looked up.

_Them_.

Well, _them_ minus the Asian man. But the two with dark hair and the redhead were standing further back. That meant she must've bumped into the one with golden hair.

The _fearless_ one.

Jace.

"Jesus, Jace, it looks as though you knocked the breath out of them," the dark-haired girl scolded disapprovingly. Her dark eyes flicked over Aria once, and then, almost dismissively, she examined a fingernail.

"I didn't _mean_ to," Jace defended himself. "And I'm sure they're okay. You're okay, right?" he addressed Aria, in a tone that told her that he clearly _didn't_ care whether or not she was okay.

"I'm fine," she said, straightening up. "Thanks." Her mind was screaming at her, _Get out of there, get out of there._

She continued walking; she could feel four sets of eyes watching her go. It made her heart beat faster, her palms sweat, and her cheeks to flame.

_Get out of there_.

* * *

Jace watched the girl in the oversized sweatshirt go, and he turned back to his fellow Shadowhunters with one eyebrow raised. "Mundanes should really watch where they're going," he commented.

Isabelle laughed, but Alec looked down the street – the girl, hunched over, was still visible. "She seemed frightened," he mused.

"She was probably just stunned at the sight of my striking features," Jace assured him, earning another laugh from Isabelle and a sigh from Clary.

"No, really, Jace," Isabelle said when she finished laughing. "I thought she was going to pass out or something." She looked down the street – the figure was no longer visible.

Jace shrugged off Isabelle's concern. "She'll be fine. We need to focus on what's important, and that's the distress call we received from the warlocks on Union and Fourth Ave. We can worry about mundies _later_."

The group of Nephilim continued walking down the light post-lit street, staying close to the shadows cast by the buildings. Jace had his Sensor out, his expression bright and alert at the prospect of conflict. Clary stayed close by him, but her face held more worry. Isabelle and Alec remained impassive, though there might have been a flicker of excitement in their dark eyes.

"I can feel it," Jace whispered, half to himself.

"Feel what?" asked Clary, confused.

"That this is going to be _good_."


	6. Speakers

**Hey guys! I know that I've been neglecting any author's notes, so I decided that it was about time that we started communicating. Thanks to all the people who've read, and **Sam The Russia **and **Ourania-Annais **for reviewing!**

**All I've got to say on this chapter is that it's a little longer than the others . . . and kind of a major turning point in the story. Enjoy!**

**And, of course, all characters (besides Aria, she's mine!) belong to the wonderful Cassandra Clare.**

**

* * *

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Chapter Six

Aria continued to walk, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and the strange group of teenage warriors.

What a strange coincidence, that she should (literally) bump into them again. Trying to keep up a steady, quick pace, Aria had a startling realization – they might be attending the block party as well.

_I'll just stay as far away and out of their sight range as I can_, she promised herself, and she drew her sweatshirt even tighter around her still. Skinny jeans and an oversized MU sweatshirt were _not_ the best party outfit, but Aria hoped, with the cold weather, that nobody would be in anything too chic.

Anywhere else, walking at this time of night would be difficult without a heavy-duty flashlight, but in Brooklyn, most of the streets were lined with bright, glowing streetlamps. Their light formed pools of yellowish-white at regular intervals on either side of the street, and Aria realized that she preferred to stay close.

The dark shadows near the buildings seemed ominous.

After other five or so minutes of walking, Aria could make out music and a crowd of people up ahead. _This must be the block party_, Aria thought, and felt relief course through her. She hadn't been aware that she was becoming antsy, her head turning sharply to any sound around her. She quickened her pace, and stopped when she was standing on the outskirts of the throng.

The 'party' consisted of a few tables covered with liquor bottles and a stack of about twenty pizzas, an iPod dock hooked up to some ancient-looking speakers, and people, mostly college-age or young adult, milling around in groups of three or four. Nobody was dancing – mostly people just tipped back numerous shots or laughed at jokes Aria couldn't hear.

"Fun," she murmured to herself, disappointed. Although she wasn't sure what _exactly_ she'd been expecting, this definitely hadn't been it. It'd be better if she just grabbed a piece of pizza and headed back to the hotel. Maybe Dad would be okay with her renting a movie from the Pay-Per-View.

Aria walked over to one of the empty pizza boxes and picked up one of the smaller slices, taking an experimental nibble on the end before taking a genuine bite. She turned, prepared to head back the way she came –

And saw them.

They couldn't seem to leave her alone, no matter where she went. Aria made her way behind one of the taller speakers, and she examined their expressions. They didn't seem like they were looking for anybody in particular, yet their faces bore looks of confusion.

Aria watched as the dark-haired girl nudged Jace and said something, causing a chuckle out of the others, and he simply scowled and continued walking into the fray of people – he was waiting for _something_.

Aria knew that she didn't want to know _what_.

* * *

"Going to be good, huh, Jace," Isabelle said, lightly elbowing him on his shoulder. The group of Nephilim had arrived on the block by Union and Fourth Avenue only to be greeted by a group of drunken mundanes and bad music. It wasn't a warlock distress call of any sort – none of the Shadowhunters even saw anyone that looked remotely like a Downworlder.

Jace scowled and shook off Izzy's touch. Ignoring her and Alec's quiet laughter at his expense, he kept walking into the crowd of loud mundanes, looking for anything that would have elicited a distress call. Yet all he could see were tables piled with liquor and stumbling humans.

He pulled out his Sensor, hoping that some, _any_, sign of demon activity would come up. But it detected none.

Jace sighed and stuffed the Sensor back into his pocket, disappointed. They hadn't had any activity for _days_, not since the battle with Beezlebub two days ago. And to Jace, that was too long.

Accepting the fact that no warlocks – or danger – were present at the party, Jace made his way back to his companions. "I guess there's nothing here," he resigned, and the three others smiled at his displeasure.

Clary was also extremely relieved. "I guess it's back to the Institute," she said, trying to infuse unhappiness into her tone. Izzy smirked, and it was Clary's turn to elbow her in the side.

"Sorry Jace," Izzy said, genuine sympathy in her tone. She knew how exciting a good fight could be. "Maybe something'll come up tom –"

But Izzy didn't finish her sentence; at that moment, the heavens opened up, a bolt of jagged lightning made its way across the sky, and it seemed as though all of Brooklyn shook with the force of the thunder clap that came mere moments after.

Jace touched his hand to the pocket where his un-named stele was kept and spun around, his face breaking into a wide grin. "We may not need to wait until tomorrow, Iz," he said, and pointed. "_Look_."

Alec, Isabelle, and Clary followed Jace's finger and gasped.

* * *

Aria was thankful that she had remained behind the speaker when the thunderstorm started. The party-goers yelled and cursed; others pulled on their hoods, grabbed some liquor bottles, and ran off. Though she quickly realized that soon she would be soaking if she did not find cover from the rain, which was coming down in sheets.

Before leaving her position behind the speaker, though, she stole a look at the group of four. Jace was pointing at something, an excited look in his eyes. The other three were simply staring in utter astonishment.

Aria followed their gaze, and immediately wished that she hadn't. _Why do things like this keep happening to me?_ she practically wailed in her mind, taking in the form of the creature stalking towards Jace and the others.

It had nothing on Beezlebub's size, and didn't seem as frightening to look at – it was simply a man . . . holding a hissing serpent in his hand. He walked toward the four at ease, an almost pleasant expression on his face. He seemed oblivious to the thunderstorm going on around him.

"_Nephilim_," he said, and Aria knew that there was something foreign to his voice, though she couldn't detect what. "I was-s hoping that you would be attending."

_Nephilim? What is that supposed to mean?_

Jace's eyes flashed, and Aria watched as his hand tightened around something in his jacket pocket. "Andromalius," he spat, hatred lacing every syllable. "Don't you have a Black Market to be haunting?"

The girl cringed as she watched the man's – Andromalius's – expression twist into one of loathing before settling itself back into its original amiability. "Perhaps-s," he said, "Yet I was-s called into dealing with s-some rather . . . _unruly_ S-Shadowhunters-s."

"Valentine has been defeated – for a month now," Jace replied contemptuously, and Aria wondered, _Valentine? Who is this?_

"But s-some of his-s more faithful followers-s s-still remain," Andromalius said, and Aria realized what strange quality his voice possessed – he hissed, like a snake.

She watched in fascination as Jace murmured something low under his breath, and then, from underneath his jacket, produced a glowing sword. Behind him, the other boy had already cocked an arrow in his bow, and the dark-haired girl once again held that whip in her hand. Even the red-head, who last time had hid in the lobby of the Holiday Inn Express, had produced one of those luminous cylinders.

But the dark-haired boy shook his head. "No time for marks, Clary," he told her.

Aria just had enough time to store the redhead's name away before Jace had advanced on the man with the serpent, wielding his radiant weapon. The two dark-haired children were not far behind.

_Should I run?_ Aria asked herself, conflict raging inside of her. She could run, but may be seen – and pursued – by Andromalius _or_ Jace and Co. She could stay, but could be caught hiding.

It was just a lose-lose situation.

After about five seconds of heated internal debate, Aria decided to run.


End file.
